South of Heaven's Chanting
by The Dollhouse Queen
Summary: Wales and England have a chat about Arthur's recent behaviour. Pirate!Elizabethan!England.


**Title: **South of Heaven's Chanting

**Fandom: **Hetalia

**Character/s: **Pirate!England, Wales. Brief mention of Conquistador!Spain.

**Word count: **600

**Summery: **Wales and England have a chat about Arthur's recent behaviour. Pirate!Elizabethan!England.

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><p>"Was this really so necessary, brother?"<p>

Arthur lazily opened one eye and regarded his guest curiously. He smirked, before looking away without replying to his statement. He watched in amusement as a large rat ran up his boot and onto his knee. Absently, he wondered if he could eat the thing.

Heh. He was hungry.

And sober, which wasn't as amusing.

"You only call me 'brother' when you want something, Wales." He finally drawled without looking at his brother. He picked up the rat gently, tightening his grip when it began to struggle. He could feel Wales' gaze on him, studying him from the other side of the bars that separated them.

"...I want you to give up this madness and return to court. I can't keep Elizabeth's anger in check for much longer, you know."

Arthur laughed, letting his control slip for long enough for his brother to see the insanity lurking behind his acid green eyes. The rat was struggling wildly as his grip become uncomfortably tight.

"I will _never _do that while that woman is on the throne, luv."

He chuckled, leaning back against the stone wall of his cell. Dressed in all the regalia of a Captain of his reputation, he knew that he cut an impressive sight, imprisoned or no.

There was interesting _crack! _as the rat's neck broke, and its body went limp. He looked at it curiously. He hadn't realised he was holding it all that tightly.

He was still getting used to this new strength his growing empire gave him.

"I cannot help but be called to the sea, brother. I will continue to return to it, and no mere human will stop me." He snapped when the other nation opened his mouth, no doubt to protest. "Nothing Elizabeth can do will tempt me back - not while there is Tudor blood on my throne!"

"Then it is the gallows for you!" Wales snapped back. It was obvious, to Arthur at least, that his fellow nation really didn't care what became of him. He was only there because the woman in charge of his people had ordered him to reason with his renegade brother.

Arthur didn't care – he was still holding a grudge from how his Queen's sister had treated his people, as lovely as Elizabeth was and as married as they supposedly were, he wasn't going to play nice with _anyone _related to _bloody Queen Mary._

She could rot in hell for all he cared.

Humans were fragile and a waste of his attention, unless, of course, they had something he wanted.

"Tch. I don't care. Freedom's worth another hanging." Arthur grumbled out loud, absently fingering the scars that were beginning to form around his neck. A hanging didn't effect him for very long, but after too many meetings with the noose, scars did start to show. His hand slowly slid up to his eye-patch, and he frowned. He would need to return _that _favour as soon as possible. A flash of dark hair and green eyes crossed his mind's eye, and he smiled viciously.

As soon as he got out of this cell, he was heading to the Americas.

The revenge for his lost eye would be sweet.

Maybe he could even find one of those nation-kind children Spain kept ranting on about over there, just to annoy his rival.

"You can't listen to the siren forever, England." Wales said softly, looking troubled. Arthur ignored him in favour of his thoughts, the rising blood-lust obvious in the way he smiled.

The empire was growing stronger, and Arthur's sanity was decreasing along with it.

The elder nation sighed and left the prison without another word, dodging the dead rat that was thrown at his head with an experience that came only with age and time wasted in the presence of England.

Arthur just laughed at his retreating brother with only a touch of hysteria.

Wales was wrong.

Arthur would let himself be wooed by the ocean until the day he died.

**_Finis_**

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><p><em>This was originally a part of one of those '100 themes' drabble things, but I seem incapable of writing a proper, 100 word drabble, so I decided to post a few of the ones I've already written separately instead.<em>

_This drabble doesn't make much sense at all. Oh well._

_The title comes from the soundtrack of Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides, which is most appropriate to listen to whilst writing about Pirate!Iggy._

_Reviews make the world go round, and convince me to write more, so please..._

_Review!_


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